


Blue Team Extravaganza

by equivalencept



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blue Team, Gen, s2blueteam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equivalencept/pseuds/equivalencept
Summary: I wrote five short fics for Blue Team Week over on tumblr, and am posting them here! There's five chapters, one for John, Kelly, Fred, Linda, and Sam. The word count for each chapter ranges from 200 to 1,200. The themes are friends and family.





	1. John

“We got you soup,” Kelly said, placing a bowl of chicken soup in front of where John was sitting in the mess hall.

“With actual spices and herbs, not the usual bland stuff,” Fred added, as the rest of John’s team seated themselves around him.

The ‘bland stuff’ was the only thing the mess hall had, and according to the schedule they weren’t supposed to serve any kind of soup today or in the next week. John ignored the obvious question, ‘ _Where did you get this soup, then_ ,’ in favor of saying, “I’m not sick.”

“Yes, you are,” Linda stated.

Her tone brokered no argument, but John still opened his mouth to adamantly begin saying, “I’m _not_ -”. His voice must have been just a bit too adamant, though, because he erupted in a fit of coughs.

Just as he was getting himself under control, he felt someone press their wrist against his forehead.

“No fever,” Fred said.

“Not yet, at least,” Kelly added.

“I’m fine,” John insisted.

“No,” Linda said, “And eat your soup.”

“I am more than capable of doing my job.”

“We’re not arguing with that,” Fred said.

“We all know what you have to do to get a mandatory day’s rest in this outfit,” Kelly said. “And it can’t be solved with something as weak as acetaminophen. But that’s no excuse to not use your spare time resting, and eating right. We can take over some of your work in the meantime.”

Before John could protest that last sentence, Fred added, “I technically outrank you, remember. I am more than capable of doing your paperwork for you.”

“Eat your soup,” Linda said, “Fred and Kelly had to-”

“I don’t,” John interrupted, “want to know where or how you got the soup.” He ended the conversation by finally taking a mouthful of his soup, to his teammates’ gratification.


	2. Kelly

“… _Get set…Go!_ ”

At the sound of the pre-recorded gun shot, Kelly was off. She heard, distantly, the sound of her teammates shouting her name and something else in Hungarian from the overlook above her, but she was too far away to clearly hear what they were saying.

Kelly left Spartan Town at an easy 50 kph. Beside her, the Spartan IVs were already beginning to fall behind her. There were also marines, ODSTs, and other non-augmented humans participating in the _UNSC Infinity_ ’s Charity Fun Run, but Kelly had only seen them in her peripheral before the start of the race.

Turning onto the long stretch of the race, four and a half kilometers straight through Fifth Deck to the stern of the ship, Kelly sped up to 60 kph. She could go a bit faster, and she could go a _lot_ faster in Mjolnir, but she still had another nine and half kilometers to go.

Behind her, she heard a Spartan IV, maybe Naiya Ray, calling out in joy. Kelly grinned in response. She loved running, especially a flat out sprint like this, but most of the time when she was running this fast someone was shooting at her.

Not today, though. Today she could simply enjoy the run. Kelly slowed back down to 50 kph to turn the corner onto the bay that separated the rest of the ship from the engine room. There was music playing, greeting the leaders of the race, but she was still going too fast to hear.

Soon she turned onto the second long stretch of the race that would lead her back to Spartan Town, and she sped back up to 60 kph. She could no longer hear any of the other runners behind her, even at a distance.

When was the last time she had run this freely? Back in September of 2553, after their Spartan IIIs had been taken off Blue Team? Fred and Linda had gotten injured, and though it wasn’t serious, they had been given mandatory bed rest. With nothing to do, Kelly had run around the base and – but, no, she hadn’t been able to truly sprint due to the active guards. Maybe back – no, she was sure she had never gotten to run freely on anything but a treadmill during the Covenant War, and most treadmills couldn’t go above 50 kph. Then – yes, the last time she had run like this was during boot camp, after their augmentation process. And those runs during recovery had been painful, to say the least.

Kelly was brought back from her reverie by the sounds of people cheering. Only two hundred meters to the finish line. She sprinted them at her top speed of 63 kph, and took another hundred meters past the finish line to slow down to a halt.

She heard a familiar ear-splitting whistle, and looked up to the overlook above her to spot her teammates. Fred, who had been the one to whistle, was waving at her. Linda waggled her fingers at her. John was smiling.

“Congrats, Spartan. At ten minutes and nine seconds, I think you hold the record,” Roland said, appearing next to her. Turning to him, Kelly saw Commander Palmer and Captain Lasky jogging up to her.

“She could have done it in under ten,” Linda said from above.

“Yes, but I wanted to be careful with my bruised ribs.”

“ _Why_ are you running with _bruised ribs_ -” Roland began.

“Captain, Commander,” Kelly said while saluting, cutting Roland off.

“Congrats, Spartan, on setting a new record,” Lasky said, gesturing for her to be at ease.

“And according to Roland, you’ve raised over a hundred grand for the Charity run?” Palmer said, some disbelief in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am.” Kelly glanced up at her teammates. “It’s not like any of us are doing anything with our incomes anyway. We didn’t even get paid until a few years ago.” Which was when a friend of Blue Team had learned they only got the military equivalent of in store credit, and had raised hell.

“Well, retired veterans of _Infinity_ will thank you. We should get back to the finish line, Captain, some of the IVs will be finishing now,” Palmer said.

Lasky was frowning slightly. “Thank you for your donation, but you are to report to the med bay now, Spartan.” Apparently Roland had been talking to him through his earpiece.

Kelly stifled her complaint. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“We’ll meet you there, Kelly,” John called out, already moving in the direction of the med bay.

As the rest of her team and Palmer and Lasky moved away, Kelly thought about all the free running she would be doing in the future, medical orders be damned.


	3. Fred

“Fall back, marines,” Fred shouted over the comms for what felt like the hundredth time. “That is an order from – ”

“Negative,” Staff Sergeant Jackson cut him off. “Our gunny ordered us to remain here until she returns, and we sure as shit aren’t going to listen to Spartan over her.”

 _Your gunnery sergeant is dead_ , Fred thought, but didn’t say. He’d told Jackson that twice now, but it didn’t seem like the staff sergeant was in the right frame of mind to listen. Fred wished he could talk to Jackson’s subordinates, get them to actually obey orders from High Command, but protocol indicated they minimize comm chatter, and Fred didn’t know the marine group’s radio codes anyway.

“Status, Fred,” John called out over TEAMCOMM.

“Foxtrot Seventeen’s leader is refusing to fall back, and I can’t get in touch his subordinates. They’re two corridors and two squads of Grunts and Jackals away from me.” _And we had to split up to complete the Captain’s ridiculous mission on time, so I’m alone_ , Fred didn’t say. John knew that as well as he did.

There was a slight delay, before John said, “Last pelican out of here is in fifteen minutes.”

“Aye, sir.” Fred sent him a green status light as extra confirmation, absentmindedly. He was already thinking about how he was going to get to Foxtrot Seventeen.

Two seconds later, he was sprinting up the corridor. He put a bullet in the head of a Jackal scout at the end of the hallway, and stole two plasma grenades as the body fell. He paused at the junction of the hallway long enough to throw one of them towards the Covenant squad gathered around a doorway, before darting back to take cover. A second after the explosion sounded he was back out, shooting at the remainder of the squad. They had not expected an attack from behind, given that most humans had evacuated hours ago, and so there were only a few Covies left to pick off.

As the last body fell, he quickly moved towards the doorway of the radio room that Foxtrot Seventeen was guarding, but pulled off to the side at the last minute.

“This is Spartan-104, do not shoot,” he said clearly over his speakers. Judging from the shouts of confusion that greeted this statement, Jackson had not shared any of his orders with his subordinates.

“Don’t take one step closer, you orders-flouting glory-hog,” Jackson snarled. At least that is what Fred would later write up in his after-action report. Jackson’s actual word choice was a tad stronger. The staff sergeant had actually stepped out into the threshold, leaving himself open to attack from any of the Covies that were still in the area.

Fred grabbed his shoulders and moved him back into the room. Out of the eleven other humans in the room, only two of them were moving. Ignoring Jackson’s swears, he established a line-of-sight comm with the rest of Foxtrot Seventeen.

“We need to cut and run, marines. Orders to evacuate this area came from Admiral Pekins over four hours ago.” He sent both of them copies of the evacuation orders that they could view on their HUDs. Fred mentally cursed Jackson while he did this. Had they actually evacuated four hours ago like they were supposed to, perhaps more of Foxtrot Seventeen would be alive.

“Don’t you _dare_ run away, marines – ” Jackson began, as he moved to block the doorway with his body, his back to the hallway outside. But the two marines – Gilliam and Song, according to their name tags – were already gearing up. They had apparently lost faith in their commander a while ago. Given the looks they were sending their fallen comrades, they didn’t want to leave their bodies, but knew that taking them with them wasn’t an option.

“You are not going anywh – ” Over the sound of Jackson’s bellows, Fred heard familiar movement in the hallway outside.

“Cover!” Fred shouted and, grabbing Jackson, put himself between him and the second Covenant squad’s line of fire. In the half second it took Fred to get Jackson out of the doorway and behind cover, he felt pain sear up his right side.

Wasting no time after getting behind cover, Fred took the other plasma grenade he had gotten from the Jackal scout, and threw it through the doorway, hopefully above the squad’s shields. Immediately after the explosion, he moved to partial cover to fire at the remaining forces. Gilliam and Song, who had gotten safely to cover on the other side of the doorway, did the same.

After ten seconds of sustained shooting with no return fire, Fred gestured for the two marines to pause. Using a fiber lens to peer into the corridor beyond the door, Fred saw nothing moving. The second squad appeared to have been made up entirely of Grunts, who typically were not given shields of any kind.

Fred did a quick sweep to double check that there were no remaining threats. Jackson had fallen silent at this point, though he seemed uninjured.

Fred, however, had blood spilling from his outer right thigh and the right side of his torso, where his armor gave way to his suit underneath.

Stifling a sigh, Fred gave the order to move out.

******

Ten minutes later, Fred had reunited with his team onboard the pelican. The three marines were safely strapped in, close to the cockpit.

John, who had successfully completed his side of the mission, was giving Fred a look-over closer to the loading doors of the pelican. Kneeling, he was prodding Fred’s undersuit and the gaps between his armor and undersuit, looking for more wounds to fill up with biofoam.

“Tell me again what happened,” John said, “Over TEAMCOMM, not your speakers.”

Fred hissed as John found another hole beneath the sides of his chest armor. “I was protecting the staff sergeant from his own negligence, when a stupid – ” Fred hissed again as the biofoam expanded in his wound “ – _fart breather_ shot me.”

John paused in his prodding, and beside him John heard Kelly stifle a sound.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.

“Nothing,” John said, and, apparently finished with his examination, slapped Fred’s chest armor. “You’ll have to get these looked at by medical, though.”

“Great,” Fred deadpanned and, after glancing over to ensure that Song and Gilliam were holding up alright, leaned against the wall of the pelican for support for the remainder of the flight.

It wasn’t until three hours later, when Fred had been discharged by medical and they were all getting ready to finally get some sleep, that Linda brought it up.

“ _Fart breather?_ ” she asked, some incredulity seeping into her voice.

“What?” Fred asked, a bit defensively. “Grunts do breathe methane.”

“That’s the most juvenile thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Linda said.

Fred paused for a moment before saying, “Flatulence inhalers.”

“Your word choice wasn’t what I thought was juvenile – ”

“Gas wheezers!” Kelly said, herself wheezing a little as she laughed.

“Vapor gulpers,” John added.

Fred snorted. “Okay, now we’re just being too relaxed with our synonyms.”

He turned over onto his left side, still careful of the wounds on his right. “Goodnight, everyone.”

“ ’Night.”


	4. Linda

Linda shifted her head up minutely to see through her scope. Any minute now, Mun ‘Argamee would appear from behind the cover the hills had given him thus far, and after taking her shot Linda could finally go back to base and meet up with the rest of her team.

ONI had gotten wind that Supreme Commander ‘Argamee would pass through this sector of the human planet Ballast, doing an in-person inspection of the camps the Covenant had set up so far. Since they didn’t know when he was going to be doing his tour, Linda had been dropped off four days ago, and had then made her way to her current location, five kilometers away from the Covenant camp. She had been here since then, laid out in the dirt, waiting, waiting, waiting.

She saw a flash of bright purple emerge in the split between the hills, the signature color of a supreme commander. Linda took a half second to adjust her sniper rifle to aim for the only gray on the figure – ‘Argamee’s face – before she pulled the trigger.

The Sangheili collapsed, and was immediately obscured from her vision by other Covenant members moving to surround him. It looked like she wouldn’t be able to confirm her kill, but she had never expected to get a second shot in any case. It was time to move out.

Linda shifted to stand up from under the camouflage tarp that was covering her, and immediately felt her back and legs seize. She hadn’t moved from her propped-up position for so long that her muscles had cramped.

Linda took a few minutes stretching subtly under the camouflage tarp, which was made even harder by her Mjolnir. The Covenant, upon noticing a human sniper was taking shots at them, would only comb the area in a three kilometer radius, since that was the longest distance an expert UNSC sniper could reliably shoot at. Linda, who was five kilometers away, was safe for the moment. However, she still didn’t want to waste any more time than she had to.

After the cramps were loosened enough that she could move easily, she gathered her gear and set off north through the hills. After five hours of walking under cover and without hearing any noises that sounded like nearby Covenant, she felt confident enough to call for extraction over her radio.

Thirty minutes later she was on a pelican. The pilot grinned at her from the cockpit. “Message from Captain Huerta, ma’am: ‘There’s enough Covenant chatter and panic to indicate your mission was a success, Spartan.’ ”

Linda nodded at her, and spent the rest of the two hour flight trying to stretch out her remaining cramps.

Two hours after landing at Camp Forestay, she had given her report, gotten out of her Mjolnir, showered, and was back with the rest of Blue Team.

“Ughn,” Linda said, lying on her bunk and shielding her eyes from the overhead lights.

“You look exhausted,” Fred said. He was currently kneading her left calf and foot, trying to remove any remaining knots in her muscles. He had finished with her right leg. Kelly had massaged her back, before leaving with John to go to the mess hall.

“I barely slept the last four days. I didn’t know when he was going to show up,” Linda replied, “And when I did sleep it was only very lightly.”

Fred patted her knee in quiet consolation, before moving his hands to stretch her Achilles tendon past the point of comfort.

Linda brought her right leg up to kick him lightly in the stomach.

“Oof, stop that,” he said, “Your right Achilles always gets tight after staying still for too long, and you know it. You got to stretch it.”

“I would have done that earlier, but it’s nearly impossible to fully stretch in Mjolnir.”

The door opened, and Kelly and John returned.

“How’re you doing?” John asked.

“Tired,” she replied.

“Hungry, too?”

“We got you maple and brown sugar oatmeal, and banana pudding, and muscle relaxers,” Kelly said.

“Thanks,” Linda said, giving a rare smile to her teammates. She was perfectly fine doing long missions on her own, but she was always happy to get back with her family.


	5. Sam

“Jump in, Sam!” John called from a few meters out into the lake.

“I am!” Sam was not. Sam had learned how to swim last year, with the rest of the Spartan trainees, but he still was not enthused about the water.

Kelly surfaced next to John. Taking a breath, she noticed Sam still at the end of the dock.

“You’re not in yet?” she called to him. Kelly had already known how to swim when they had been taught last year. According to herself, she knew how to swim before she could walk. _And you knew how to run before you could walk, too?_ John had teased at the time.

“I’m fine just sitting here,” Sam finally replied.

“They’re going to start a game of keep away in a few minutes,” John said.

Sam glanced about twenty meters to his left, where a lot of the other trainees were. He saw Fred, who last year had to be thrown into the water by Mendez, currently treading along happily next to Serin, who was trying to organize the game. He saw Linda a bit away from the rest of the group, floating on her back with her eyes closed.

“Fine,” Sam finally relented. As much as he didn’t like the water, he was always happy to be with friends.


End file.
